


A Discreet Physician

by auberus, Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Shadows and Shades [1]
Category: Highlander, The Borgias
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, GFY, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auberus/pseuds/auberus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The physician that Cesare is hiring is just a bit odd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Discreet Physician

Cesare had asked Micheletto to find a physician who could be very discreet, and his pet assassin had been very prompt about bringing him back the name and location of such a physician. He hadn't brought the physician himself, but Cesare's fairly certain that's because he'd told Micheletto not to do so. This is something that requires slightly more diplomacy and tact than it does force, and that means Cesare needs to do it himself.

He keeps the hood of his cloak up, hiding his face from the populace as he makes his way down twilight-darkening streets to the small but well-kept house that Micheletto had given him the direction to. Knocking on the door, and waiting patiently for the man or his servant - if he has one - to open it. He likely wouldn't be quite so patient, he thinks, if he didn't know Lucrezia is well looked after at the convent. As it is, that knowledge is the only thing that keeps him waiting rather than pounding on the door to summon the physician more swiftly.

Methos puts his journal aside with a sigh when he hears the knock on his door. He enjoys practicing medicine, likes undoing, however temporarily, some of the damage the world can do to mortals. He does, however, sometimes tire of being subject to interruption at any time of the day or night. Nevertheless, he gets to his feet and crosses the room, leaving his sword in its corner. There's no hint of Presence, and the dagger up his sleeve is sufficient to deal with any mortal threat, even in this part of the city. He pulls open the door, and though he lifts an eyebrow at the cloaked and hooded figure on his front step, he steps aside without comment, and with a gesture of invitation.

Cesare steps inside with a smirk crossing his face at the trust of the physician - for all that Cesare has no intention of being dangerous right now, he still could be. He waits for the door to be shut behind him, and the prying eyes of the street to be closed out with the sight of it before he lowers the hood of his cloak. "I've heard you're a very discreet physician."

Tact, this might require, but Cesare isn't interested in the sort of tact that means dancing around the subject for long. Just the sort that doesn't involve threatening the physician in order to get what he wants - at least not for now. He's not discarding it as a possibility altogether.

Methos' other eyebrow slips upward, though in surprise rather than in private amusement. He'd had several guesses as to the nature of his visitor, but he hadn't expected Cesare Borgia, at this hour or at any other. He has some noble patients, but most of his work is done among the lower classes, as a way of avoiding other Immortals.

"I believe all physicians should strive for discretion," he says mildly. "personally, I find that refusing to discuss either the ills or the identities of my patients to be the best means of achieving it."

"Not all achieve that end." Cesare watches the physician for a long moment, wondering if he should trust him, though in the end, he's the only one Cesare thinks he can. Or Micheletto wouldn't have mentioned him. "I don't need your services for me, and I won't speak of who your services are needed for here." Too much risk, and he won't have Lucrezia's name dirtied with rumours that might or might not come close to the truth.

"I'm not concerned with names," Methos assures him. "I do, however, need to know the general nature of the patient's complaint if I'm to know what to bring with me."

Cesare is silent a moment before he says, quietly. "She's with child." He hasn't actually said it aloud before this, perhaps as if it weren't real until he said something. Even saying aloud doesn't make it seem all that real, for all that he knows his sister wouldn't lie about such a thing. It's merely that it's his sister, that it's _Lucrezia_ , and he doesn't like to think about the fact she's no longer just his little sister, but will be someone's mother before a year is out.

Methos' initial assumption is that the expected child is a mistress's, but there's something in Cesare's face that makes him wonder. He keeps his speculation to himself, though, since he doubts it would be welcome.

"Is she having difficulties of some kind?" he asks, turning to survey the shelves on which he keeps the various medicines and instruments that are the tools of his trade. "Or do you simply wish to confirm her health and that of the child?"

"I want to make sure she's healthy, and for her to stay that way." Cesare turns slightly so he can watch the doctor gather his tools and supplies. He doesn't know what the state of Lucrezia's health had been before she returned to Rome, but she's only had the one apparent dizzy spell since. "She was a little dizzy when first I saw her after her return to Rome."

"That's not entirely unusual." Methos puts the last few medicines he might need into his bag before closing it and grabbing his cloak - and his sword. There are too many Immortals in Rome to risk leaving it at home, despite the fact that mortals only rarely wear broadswords in the city, preferring instead a slimmer and lighter blade.

Cesare raises an eyebrow at the sword the physician picks up, though he doesn't comment on it. Just makes a mental note to have Micheletto find out why the physician might need to carry a sword better suited to a battlefield than to the city. He waits for the physician to be ready, and pauses as he pulls the hood of his cloak up to hide his face. "I didn't ask your name, good doctor. Might I inquire as to what it is?"

"Jonathan Pierce." Methos has developed quite a fondness for the English, especially as claiming to be one of them has apparently been enough to keep his neighbors tolerantly amused by any eccentricities on his part rather than being threatened by them.

"English?" Cesare smiles a moment, tugging his hood forward enough to hide his face in its folds. "What brings you to Rome?" And more, what had kept him here when Charles of France was advancing on the city, and many of the residents had fled? If, indeed, he had stayed, rather than returning with the populace, or arriving after.

"English weather is gruesome even in the summer." Methos opens the door and gestures for Cesare to precede him before following him outside and locking the door. "I decided I'd rather be warm and dry most of the year, rather than cold and wet. And since I wanted to see Rome..." He shrugs. "Here I am."

Someone entirely worried about the physical climate, rather than the political one, is unusual in anyone with education, but Cesare keeps his observation to himself. It's not immediately important, though it is another thing for Micheletto to check about Jonathan. Although finding out further truth about him might be something Cesare has to do himself - or at least send letters through more official channels. If he bothers, which he might now, so long as Jonathan proves as discreet as he claims, and a good physician.

"This way," is all he says, leading the way through the streets, and from there north of the city toward the convent he has settled Lucrezia at until her child is born. The sisters allow him in, and Jonathan behind him when he tells them the physician is there at his request. Nothing more is said, one of the sisters leading the way to the room where Lucrezia is resting at the moment.

"Sis," Cesare says quietly, lowering the hood of his cloak as he greets her, a small smile crossing his face when she comes over to wrap her arms around him. "You're looking well."

"And I feel much better than I did before, Cesare." Lucrezia pulls back, smiling up at him a moment before looking around him at Jonathan. "Who's this?"

"A physician; I want to make sure you're well, Lucrezia." Cesare holds her gaze steadily, one hand spread across the small of her back to help support her in case another dizzy spell comes on, though he hasn't seen any sign of one.

Despite the slight easing of tension that being on Holy Ground always brings, Methos is less than thrilled at having gotten himself entangled with two of the Pope's children. If something goes wrong, the repercussions will almost certainly cost him his current life, and might even cause him more serious problems. None of this touches his face as he looks at the two of them, but it is definitely a concern.

"It's a common enough thing for a woman to be with child, Cesare." Lucrezia sighs, and leans into her brother, her head resting on Cesare's shoulder. "But if it makes you happier, I will let him care for my health."

"That's all I want, sis." Cesare leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "Do you want me to stay, or should I wait outside?" That he'd prefer to keep Jonathan in his line of sight is a given, but if Lucrezia would be more comfortable with one of the sisters in here to be her chaperone, he'll have one of them watch the physician and remain outside the room.

"It would be better if Sister Martha remained with me, wouldn't it?" Lucrezia tilts her head to look up at Cesare a moment, a small smile on her face. "Do stay just outside, Cesare, though, please?"

"Whatever you want, sis." Cesare steps to the door, nodding to Sister Martha as she comes down the hall. "Just a physician, but my sister would have you in there with her as well." He steps aside to let her enter, closing the door gently behind her before he leans against it, tilting his head back to look up at the shadow-shrouded ceiling. This isn't quite turning out how he'd expected, but it's still going well enough for now.

Once the door closes, Methos turns to Lucrezia, smiling reassuringly.

"If you would lie down on the bed, my lady?" he asks. "This won't take terribly long." She reminds him a little bit of a girl he'd known in Greece once. That's one of the perils of being his age. Some days it seems as if everyone he meets reminds him of someone he used to know. "Do you know how far along you are?"

Lucrezia tilts her head slightly, making her way to the bed with carefully-placed steps. "I've only returned to Rome two months ago, and felt ill for perhaps a month before I left Pesaro. A week in between, perhaps?" It should only have taken a couple of days, but she'd been delayed by the French army and mitigating that difficulty before it had a chance to harm her father and her brothers.

"And other than nausea and some dizziness, have you experienced any other symptoms?" Methos hangs up his cloak and moves to the basin and pitcher to wash his hands. Most of his colleagues wouldn't bother, but then, most of them haven't any experience with the discoveries of other cultures.

Settling on the edge of the bed, and watching the physician, Lucrezia gives him a small smile. "A little bit of fever at the beginning, and little desire to leave my bed, but nothing else, and those both passed with the nausea when I left Pesaro."

"All normal," Methos assures her, just as he had Cesare earlier. "You're going to tire more easily now; your body is giving all its excess energy to your child." He ignores the nun in the corner as he starts his examination. "Have you ever been told what to expect during pregnancy?" Many girls of her class are not, and spend unnecessary worry on things that are perfectly normal.

"No." Lucrezia doesn't take her gaze off the physician, curious as to what exactly he's looking for to ensure her health. "All I have been told is that nothing yet has been strange; that all is normal and as it should be." All except Cesare, who has always had more concern for her than anyone else, save perhaps their father. And more now than her father might truly show.

"It is." Methos takes her wrist in his hand, pressing his finger down against the vein to take her pulse. It's strong and steady, and he nods absently in approval. "Still, you ought to know what is and what isn't usual. You might have some heartburn, and some cravings for food that you wouldn't ordinarily eat. There will also be some tenderness of the breasts, and as you reach the last few months, some swelling of feet and especially ankles. The thing to be most concerned over is any cramping, as if your monthly bleeding is about to start."

Her breath catches a moment, a faint hint of worry going through her for a moment before it's gone. Cesare had brought the physician to be sure she's well, and to make sure no harm comes to her or her child. "But that should not happen, should it?" she asks, her voice quiet. "Is there anything I must do, that will help ensure my child is born alive and well?"

"No, it shouldn't," Methos says. "As far as keeping yorself and the child healthy, the most important thing is to listen to your body. You also shouldn't lift anything; nor should you drink any alcohol, or let yourself become overly tense or upset."

Lucrezia laughs, a slightly puzzled smile on her face. "Why should I not drink wine? The water isn't safe, and beer is not to my liking."

"Then I suggest fruit juice, or milk." Methos shrugs. "Excessive drinking can put the child at risk, so I advise all of my pregnant patients to avoid it altogether." In truth, the warning comes from a professor he'd had in Heidelburg who'd been as brilliant as he was eccentric, and he'd certainly been the latter.

That her choice of drinks might be remarked upon is something on the tip of Lucrezia's tongue to say, but she held it back after consideration. She was, after all, at a convent, and it might not be as strange for such drinks to be brought here as they would be when served in a more public forum. "I shall ask the sisters to bring me only what you say would be good to drink, then. And Cesare will make sure they've the means to acquire anything that might be needed."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to do so," Methos says, smiling. "He's clearly concerned for your well-being - though he need not worry. You are in excellent health, my lady, and I see no reason to doubt that this state of affairs shall continue - though I would like to check on you regularly."

"Then you must do so." Lucrezia returns his smile, dropping her gaze a moment before lifting it back to his. "I would not wish to harm my child in my ignorance, and I am certain Cesare will worry over every little change. It will be good that he has some means of being reassured as to my good health."

Methos smiles warmly back at her. "In that case, I look forward to our next meeting. Have you any more questions, my lady? I'm more than happy to answer any query you might have."

"None, for now. But I may have questions in the future, that I would hope you might answer." Lucrezia lets out a small laugh, before standing, smoothing her skirts once more. "Perhaps one, though. Shall it always be late when you must come? Cesare seeks to protect me, I know, but must that require always that it be dark?"

"That, my lady, is up to you and your brother. For my part, I have no objections to being summoned whenever you might have need of me." In truth, he'd have no objections to simply keeping her company. She's bright, inquisitive, and beautiful, and he can't help but be drawn to her, though it's almost certain to end in disaster should he let either her or Cesare discover as much.

"Then I will talk to my dear brother, and see that it is arranged that you might come whenever there is need that you do." Lucrezia rests a hand on his arm a moment before turning toward the door, raising her voice slightly. "You may come back in, Cesare. The physician is done with his examination."

Cesare grins, his shoulders sagging in relief a moment before he turns, opening the door to the room enough for him to slip in. "And what has he said about your health, dearest sister?" He isn't certain about the distance between his sister and Jonathan, but says nothing for now. The physician should know well enough to keep his distance unless he is needed.

"Only that I am perfectly well, and that I should have milk brought to drink, or fresh juice." Lucrezia smiles up at Cesare, leaning against him a moment when he comes over to her. "You can make sure that's arranged, can't you, Cesare?"

"Anything for you, sis." He wraps an arm around her a moment, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Anything."

Methos turns his head slightly to hide his smile. Clearly, Lucrecia has her brother wrapped firmly around her little finger, and just as clearly, Cesare doesn't mind a bit.

Cesare sees Jonathan's movement, though he doesn't step away from Lucrezia just yet, not entirely certain what the physician is hiding. Nor is what he's hiding as important as Lucrezia, anyway. "I'll see to it, sis. For now, I have to make sure the physician knows his way out." And knows well that just how important his discretion in this matter is.

"I appreciate the offer of an escort," Methos says. "I wouldn't want the nuns to think me an intruder." He smiles at Lucretia. "Don't hesitate to send for me at any hour if you have need of me," he tells her. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"If I have need of your services, I shall of course send word as swiftly as may be." Lucrezia smiles back, nodding graciously while Cesare pulls the hood of his cloak up to hide his face.

"I will make sure there is someone to send who can be as discreet as the good physician, sister." Cesare lets his lips quirk up in an unseen smile for a brief moment. "Rest now, and I will return tomorrow."

"Of course, dear Cesare." Lucrezia remains where she stands until the door closes behind them before smiling again, and returning to her bed. At least this confinement won't be entirely dull.

* * *

Methos pulls his own cloak around his shoulders and settles his sword more comfortably at his hip as he follows Cesare out into the hallway.

"Your sister is an impressive young woman," he says, smiling faintly. "And in excellent health."

"She is my sister." Cesare smirks, starting down the hallway after pulling the door shut quietly behind them. "Something to keep in mind, always, doctor." It's not a threat, if only because Cesare doesn't think it has to be. Merely a reminder of everything he's said yet about discretion, and about what has happened to those who've sought to harm him or his before.

"As you say." Methos keeps his expression neutral, though in truth he's a little amused by the unspoken threat.

That there is not even the hint of fear is interesting - and more so is the sense of a faint undercurrent of amusement. Cesare wonders that Jonathan is so unconcerned, though it is perhaps something of where he comes from. "Are all English physicians so confident in their own safety from all around them, doctor?"

"I don't know all the physicians in England," Methos says mildly. "As for me, why should I be concerned? You've made your requirements known, and I have no intention of doing otherwise." He shrugs. "Under the circumstances, I see no need for apprehension."

Something refreshingly new, when everyone who's close to him has at least some concern over what he might do; everyone save his own family finds out sooner or later that he doesn't have much concern for the lives of those who get in the way of his family and their collective ambitions. "You intrigue me, doctor. I may have more use for you than merely seeing to my sister's health, in the future."

"You know where to find me." Methos isn't entirely sure that he wants to involve himself in Cesare's intrigues, as doing so would increase the chances both of his having to leave Rome and of his encountering another Immortal. On the other hand, a bit of intrigue might be just what he needs to relieve the creeping boredom that's been nagging at him for the past few years. "Though I'm not sure what sort of services I could provide for which others might not be better suited."

"Those better suited aren't always available, or are perhaps too well-known to do the job I ask of them. But for now, my sister's health is enough of a concern for you. If I have further to ask of you, I will do so." Cesare shrugs, smirking to himself a moment. "I do not expect I need to return with you to your residence, unless you are an apothecary as well, and have something which you would have my sister take to ensure her continued health."

"At the moment, she's in no need of anything of the kind - though some bread might help should her nausea return, if she eats it before getting out of bed." Methos smiles. "Bread, however, is not the province of either apothecary or physician, so I shall bid you good night." And hope that he himself makes it home without running into anyone bent on a challenge. Rome is the center of the Western world, and as a result he's far from the only one of his kind in the city.

"I will see that she knows that." Cesare tilts his head toward Jonathan a moment, stopping once they're out of the convent. "One more thing, before you go. How often will you need to examine my sister to keep her in good health? So that I might inform the good sisters of the convent how often they might expect you."

"Once every two weeks will be sufficient until she nears the end of her term. Then I'll need to see her twice weekly, to ensure that the last stages of pregnancy don't cause any complications." He gives Cesare a reassuring smile. "As I told you, though, I don't expect any."

"Good." Cesare nods once more. "Than I bid you good night, and shall see you when you come to examine my sister in two weeks." He waits until Jonathan is out of sight before he makes his own way into the city, to his palace and the quiet of a night's sleep. Intrigues can wait until morning, since none require his attention further tonight.


End file.
